


make you a season

by mirroring



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Dom/sub, M/M, Multi, Spitroasting, Threesome - M/M/M, mild petplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-12
Updated: 2019-09-12
Packaged: 2020-10-17 00:37:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20612024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mirroring/pseuds/mirroring
Summary: It’s like this: VLive broadcast, Renjun batting Jeno’s hands away and telling him, calmly and firmly, the way you would talk to a dog, tosit.Jeno sits.





	make you a season

**Author's Note:**

> thank you to most beloved r for the idea and inspiration!!
> 
> the petplay elements ended up lighter than i intended, sorry T_T also pls assume safeword discussion happens offscreen <3

So Jaemin, and indeed anyone with a functioning pair of eyes, is aware that Renjun and Jeno have this ongoing inside-joke-slash-weird-fanservice-initiative that involves playacting some kind of domestic fantasy and then giggling over the fansite photographs on Twitter later. He’s not exactly sure what kind of fanservice _brushing your colleague’s teeth in front of a window_ is supposed to be, but if it doesn’t interfere with his own portfolio he doesn’t have any reason to be bothered by it. Jeno still alternates between flustering under his attention and slyly feeling up Jaemin's thigh on broadcast; Renjun still peacefully ignores him until he decides it’s time to break out the couple clothing again. All business as usual. Does that mean he _isn't_ bothered? 

It’s like this: VLive broadcast, Renjun batting Jeno’s hands away and telling him, calmly and firmly, the way you would talk to a dog, to _sit. _Jeno sits.

Or like this: NCT Daily, Haechan Cam with 37.5% viewer ratings panning around the dance studio, a flash of Renjun kneeling over Jeno as he works a cotton tip into Jeno’s ear caught in the frame. 

Or like now: backstage before dress rehearsal, Jeno with his head in Renjun’s lap while Renjun inspects his molars like Jeno is a horse, fingers hooked over Jeno’s front teeth to push his lower jaw down for a better view. They seem completely indifferent to the camerapeople milling about, and also the fact that Renjun’s fingers are knuckle-deep in Jeno’s mouth. 

“Decided to go into dentistry, Injunnie?” Jaemin asks, crouching down beside them. Jeno makes an enthusiastic garbled noise presumably intended as a greeting around Renjun’s fingers. 

“Jeno wanted me to check his back teeth,” Renjun says, unfazed. He withdraws his fingers, shiny with Jeno’s spit, and goes to wipe them on Jeno’s pants, before apparently remembering that they’re supposed to perform in these outfits very soon. Jaemin grabs a pack of makeup wipes off the closest counter and fishes one out, passes it to him.

“I thought I had a cavity,” Jeno is explaining.

“You don’t,” Renjun says, cleaning off his hand.

Jeno, still lying in Renjun’s lap, takes the used tissue from him and pockets it. Renjun pats him on the cheek twice, perfunctory. Slowly, Jaemin narrows his eyes.

“Well,” Jaemin says. “This is new.”

“What’s new,” Renjun says.

Momentarily the timeline where Jaemin replies with, _this thing where you treat Jeno like your pet dog, _flashes before his eyes. It’s terrible. He decides it isn’t going to be this one. Instead, Jaemin says, lightly, “Jeno-yah, you should tell manager-hyung if your teeth hurt.”

Jeno snaps his teeth cheerfully at Jaemin. Renjun rests his hand on top of Jeno’s head. Jaemin watches the way Jeno melts into the touch. Renjun says, “Behave.”

This is officially too weird for Jaemin and also Jaemin’s dick to deal with right now. _We have to be onstage in ten minutes,_ he tells himself sternly, waiting for the reflexive performance mindset to kick in. This way he can be at least ninety percent sure that he isn’t going to put a fucking boner directly in Renjun’s line of sight when he stands up. On autopilot he makes his excuses and escapes to go soothe his nerves by finding Jisung and smothering him in his arms. 

“Hyung, you’re so clingy today,” Jisung mutters, pushing half-heartedly at his shoulder, but he allows Jaemin to lift him up by the waist and coo at him. It’s almost magical how much more normal Jaemin feels after that. Jisung really is the cure to all ails. 

Jaemin is a professional, so when he’s onstage he isn’t thinking about anything other than being onstage, but ending ments present the perfect opportunity to stew. If Jeno and Renjun are messing around with each other for real, it’s fine so long as they’re discreet enough to maintain the bare minimum of plausible deniability; Jaemin is not precisely the best judge of that particular standard anyway. What his objectively extremely attractive bandmates do in their spare time is none of his business. Except that it _totally_ is, because it’s not just any objectively extremely attractive bandmates, it’s _Jeno_, and it’s _Renjun_. So maybe that means he’s bothered. Who wouldn’t be? He thinks it’s rather justified, given the circumstances. 

Since Jeno and Renjun have entered another phase of being attached at the hip Jaemin goes over to Donghyuck for his daily dose of on-camera skinship. They do a couple heart, a million camera flashes furiously shuttering in their direction, and then Jaemin wraps his arms around Donghyuck’s waist and leans in close to Donghyuck’s ear. 

“Jeno and Renjun, huh,” he says.

Donghyuck sends the audience a stunning smile. Another million camera flashes go off. “What about them?”

“This… pet thing they have going on,” Jaemin says. “Do you know what’s up with that?”

“Why the fuck are you asking me and not them?” Donghyuck says. He shoots a finger heart at a camera. Not to be outdone, Jaemin unwinds his arms just enough to shoot two. 

On the other side of the stage, Jeno and Renjun are reenacting that one part of the Baby Don’t Stop choreography that involves Jeno leaning down and Renjun scritching under his chin and on top of his head at the same time. Jaemin nestles his chin firmly against Donghyuck’s shoulder. “Thought you might know,” he says.

Donghyuck closes his hands around Jaemin’s forearms and they sway lightly side to side, in time with the music. “Do not talk to me about other men while we’re doing couple fanservice together,” Donghyuck says sweetly. “It’s rude.”

Jaemin laughs and kisses the side of Donghyuck’s neck in apology. Jeno puts his hands on either side of Renjun’s waist and hoists him up, and they can hear the disgruntled but distinctly unprotesting noise Renjun makes in response even from this far away. 

Afterwards, backstage, Renjun brushes past him with a deliberate casualness that has Jaemin tensing in wariness. Sure enough seconds later Renjun’s hand finds his, and he presses something into Jaemin’s fingers, a hard rectangle of plastic. Jaemin doesn’t need to look at it to know it’s a hotel keycard. Renjun disappears back into the crush of people, not even looking at him once. Jaemin swallows hard. He pockets the card, the back of his neck burning. 

Jeno slips into the van seat next to him on the ride back to the hotel, and the whole time Jaemin is painfully aware of the press of Jeno’s thigh against his, the hand Jeno rests on Jaemin’s knee burning through his jeans. He doesn’t look up from his phone once.

The curtains in Jeno and Renjun’s shared hotel room aren’t drawn. Wearing a bathrobe, Jeno’s leaning against the glass wall serving as a window, backlit by the ambient light of the city outside, and Jaemin is decidedly not thinking about any fantasies he may have entertained in the past involving Jeno and floor-to-ceiling windows. The more important thing right now is the part where Renjun has just informed him about the details of his—_ownership_ arrangement with Jeno.

“Okay,” Jaemin says slowly, processing. “In public, though?”

“It’s hard to say no to Jeno,” Renjun admits, under his breath. Jaemin understands the sentiment, but he’s accumulated enough exposure to Jeno’s brand of skinship over the years that it isn’t actually that difficult in practice. He supposes that’s something Renjun doesn’t have the luxury of just yet, or maybe it’s just a function of Renjun’s not-so-secret soft spot for them. 

Jeno crawls onto the bed beside Jaemin and nudges at Jaemin’s knee, the same way he does when he’s pestering Jaemin to get up early on their days off so he can make Jeno food. “Are you mad I didn’t ask you?” Jeno says, peering carefully up at Jaemin. “You’re really hard to crack in public.”

“No, you’re right, I wouldn’t have gone along with it like Injunnie,” Jaemin says, shifting to adjust for Jeno’s weight as he stretches out over Jaemin’s legs. He’s a little mad. Jeno is _his_ best friend, after all. But Renjun is very pretty, and also a much easier target, so Jaemin can’t exactly fault Jeno’s logic.

Renjun scowls. “_I_ thought you’d jump at the opportunity,” he says. “You’re such an exhibitionist.”

“I am,” Jaemin agrees. “But only when it’s on my terms, you know.”

“Well, we don’t have to worry about that now!” Jeno says. “You’re here, so you’re down to fuck me, right?” and Jaemin nearly chokes on air from the unexpected but not necessarily unwelcome directness. Jeno wriggles around until his head is properly in Jaemin’s lap, mirror of his position with Renjun earlier, before the concert, his breath falling in warm huffs against Jaemin’s inner thigh, and it’s alarming how rapidly Jaemin’s cock jumps to attention.

“Alright, alright, we can get started,” Renjun says. “You want Jaemin to fuck your mouth first?”

Jeno nods so enthusiastically Jaemin worries he’s going to sprain something in his neck. 

“You sure, baby?” The endearment slips out of his mouth by accident, but it seems right, so Jaemin doesn’t take it back.

Jeno blinks, then looks to Renjun, who bites back a smile.

“Pets don’t speak,” Renjun says.

“Okay,” Jaemin says, “okay, so how will I know—”

“He’ll do anything you tell him to do,” Renjun says. “That’s the point.” 

Heat curls deep in Jaemin’s stomach. Jeno nods again, looking up at Jaemin, expectant. Lightly, Jaemin places his hand on the front of Jeno’s neck without pressing down, and Jeno makes a pleased sound at the back of his throat, halfway to a purr.

“Jaemin-ah,” Renjun says. His gaze is direct and a little dark. “Jeno wants to be good for you. So just let him.”

And now they’re here: Jeno, naked, eyes downcast, on his knees at the foot of the bed, sitting pretty between the vee of Jaemin’s bare legs. Just the sight of Jeno kneeling in front of him, so vulnerable, so sweetly eager to please, has him flushing even harder in his underwear. He runs a hand over the tense, warm muscle of Jeno’s shoulder, then cups the side of his face. Jeno tilts his head into the touch, lengthening the lovely line of his throat. 

Jaemin swallows. He takes his hand back so he can tug off his underwear, even though it feels like a crime to stop touching Jeno even for a moment. The heady rush of power is actually a little overwhelming, being able to just take what he wants from Jeno without restriction, because it’s what _Jeno_ wants from him, and Renjun swoops in on that brief moment of hesitation.

"Do you need me to tell _you_ what to do too?" Renjun sounds amused.

Jaemin snorts. "I'm good, thanks," he says, redirecting his attention to Jeno. He puts his hand back on Jeno's cheek, stroking him gently, before guiding Jeno's face to his crotch. Jeno’s mouth falls open easily, and without warning he swallows Jaemin down right to the hilt. The sudden wet heat of Jeno's mouth around his cock sends his hips jerking forward, skin dancing with electricity, and Jaemin has to choke back a curse. 

Jeno's hands come up to curl loosely around his hips, bracing himself as he bobs his head up and down Jaemin's length. He draws back, swirls his tongue around the head before diving back down, and Jaemin curves a hand around Jeno’s nape, pushing him further down on his cock. Relishes the sound Jeno makes in response to that, low in his throat. 

“Pull on his hair,” Renjun says. Jaemin’s head snaps to the side, blood crackling in his ears; he’d almost forgotten Renjun was there, if it was possible to forget something like that. He’s sitting in a chair with his legs spread, watching them, palming himself through his sweatpants with an almost lazy assurance. “He likes that.”

Jaemin shifts his hand up from the back of Jeno’s neck, sliding his fingers into Jeno’s hair, and Jeno lets out a quiet whine that has Jaemin’s head pulsing. 

He grips Jeno’s hair harder. "Hands behind your back, pet," he directs at Jeno, and Jeno's hands fall away from Jaemin's hips, obediently crossing behind him. What the _fuck. _Jeno is so perfect Jaemin feels like he’s in a dream, everything shimmery and tinged with vertigo.

A few quick calming breaths later, Jaemin starts rocking into Jeno’s mouth, building up his pace until he’s fucking his face without care, holding Jeno still with the hand that’s wound tightly into his hair. Jeno glances up at him, helpless, eyelashes wet with involuntary tears, flush high over his cheekbones, as Jaemin’s cock hits the back of his throat over and over again. 

The pressure of Jeno’s throat working around the tip of his cock has him bucking forward, desperate and so close to the edge, but he knows if he comes now it’s all over, and he still wants to fuck Jeno properly. Gathering all his remaining self control, he tugs Jeno’s head off his cock with a wet pop and Jeno shoots him a baleful look, lips still parted, saliva and precome smeared all over his chin. The flush spreads down his neck and chest like an oil spill. “Sorry, princess,” Jaemin mutters. “You’re too good at this.”

“You want something in your mouth so bad, don’t you,” Renjun says, walking over to them. He’s gotten rid of his sweats sometime between the last time Jaemin looked at him and now. Stroking his cock with one hand and running over the back of Jeno’s head with the other, he says, “Come on, hands and knees, good boy,” and Jeno shifts onto all fours, so obliging.

Renjun rests the tip of his cock against the divot of Jeno’s plush bottom lip and Jeno pouts around it, taking him into his mouth inch by inch, and Jaemin can’t help but stare at the obscene sight of Jeno’s lips wrapped around the base of Renjun’s cock. 

“What are you waiting for?” Renjun says impatiently, glancing over at Jaemin. His fingers curl into Jeno's hair, holding him in place. “We can fuck him at the same time.”

It’s a titanic struggle to reconnect his brain to his mouth long enough to string together words in a coherent order. “Do you, do you have—”

“Just fuck him bare,” Renjun says. Jeno moans around Renjun’s cock. “He loves it. I told you already, you can do anything you want with him, that's the point.” 

Jeno’s already loose and slick when Jaemin presses a lubed-up finger into him. Images of Renjun working Jeno open with his slim, pale fingers flash over the backs of his eyelids. “Did you guys already—”

Renjun just smiles. Deceptively casual, even though Jaemin knows firsthand how fucking intense it is to have Jeno sucking your dick. Jaemin likes this Renjun, all cool control, halfway to meanness. And Jaemin’s happy to oblige for the moment; it’s always fun to let Renjun get what he wants, or what he thinks he wants. He loves a good challenge, loves the idea of digging his fingers into the chinks of Renjun’s armour until he finds what makes Renjun fall apart, cede that control, give himself up to him. Maybe another time.

For now he skims his hands appreciatively along Jeno’s slim, taut waist, fitting his thumbs to the sharp jut of his hipbones. All that strength, all that explosive energy he brings onstage now dormant and docile, pliant underneath Jaemin. He lines himself up with Jeno's hole and pushes in slowly.

“Fuck,” Jaemin hisses, as he bottoms out, “holy fuck, Jeno, baby—” 

He’s so lightheaded with sensation he can barely breathe. Jeno is warm and tight and so, so giving. Starbursts of white clatter together in his vision. If he was about to come before he is dangerously, embarrassingly close right now. 

Jaemin grinds into Jeno, hard and rough, while Renjun fucks into Jeno’s mouth. He’s definitely going to leave bruises in the shape of his fingers all over Jeno’s hips, but he thinks Jeno won’t mind. The wet, muffled noises Jeno’s making with each thrust, audible even past Renjun’s cock in his mouth, are doing great things for his ego, as well as his dick. 

“Arch your back, babe,” Jaemin murmurs, but Jeno doesn’t even need to be told, pushing his ass up to meet the snap of Jaemin’s hips. Every time Jaemin rocks into him it must shove Renjun’s cock further down his throat, and he can see and hear Renjun starting to unravel, knuckles white where his hand is fisted in Jeno’s dark hair, breathy curses falling from his lips. 

He runs a hand down the dip of Jeno’s spine, Jeno’s whole body trembling, glistening with sweat. Renjun’s gasping unevenly for air, beautifully flushed all over, the rhythm of his hips growing shallow and stuttery; it isn't taking so long for him to fall apart, in the end. Jeno is tightening around Jaemin too, like his body is trying to wring Jaemin’s orgasm out of him. All Jaemin can do now is grind messily against him, each drag of skin against skin lighting him up from the inside. And Jaemin lets go, spilling deep inside Jeno. The sight of his come slowly dripping out of Jeno’s hole when he pulls out satisfies some dark ache inside Jaemin he hadn’t even known was there.

At the last moment Renjun drags Jeno’s head off his cock, one hand fisted in Jeno’s hair to tip his head back, the other wrapping around his cock, and a few strokes later he comes all over Jeno’s face, strings of pearly white landing on his eyelashes, on the arch of his nose, in his open and waiting mouth. Jeno's tongue darts out to lick at the corner of his lips, pink and kittenish, and he looks so fucking good with come on his face it has Jaemin’s dick stirring with interest again. Then Renjun's kneeling down beside Jeno, petting his hair, murmuring praise as Jeno slumps forward into his arms and Jaemin nearly stumbles in his haste to join them, bear some of Jeno’s weight before Renjun collapses from an armful of Jeno. 

Jaemin leans forward to kiss Jeno, sloppy and unhurried, tasting Renjun on his tongue. Jeno’s mouth is all wet and hot, parting easily for him. “Doing okay, princess?”

“Yeah,” Jeno croaks out, the first word he’s spoken since they started. He tilts his hips up. “I’m just—I wanna come, _please_—” 

“You did so well for us,” Jaemin soothes, kissing down the side of Jeno’s throat. “So, so well, we’ll take care of you now.”

Renjun shifts so he’s behind Jeno, pressing up against his back, and reaches around for Jeno's neglected cock lying heavy and flushed against his stomach. As soon as he touches Jeno, Jeno cries out, lurches wildly into the contact, throwing his head back against Renjun’s shoulder. The sight of Renjun’s fingers on Jeno’s cock is unreal, even better than anything Jaemin’s mind has ever conjured up when he gets a moment alone to jack off. 

When Jaemin pushes his own fingers into Jeno’s mouth, Jeno makes a happy sound, curling his tongue around them right away. Renjun laughs, the sound light and sweet. “You’re seriously like a dog, Jeno-yah,” he says. 

“We should get you a collar,” Jaemin muses aloud, running a thumb along the base of Jeno’s neck. Renjun hums in agreement. Jeno whimpers, cock visibly twitching in Renjun’s hand, so that’s probably a yes. 

Jaemin’s free hand drifts downwards, skating over Jeno’s chest, the tense plane of his stomach, before joining Renjun at his cock. Between the two of them, it isn’t long before Jeno comes hard, shuddering apart in their arms. For a while all three of them just lie there tangled up in the afterglow, exhausted, breathing hard. The air conditioning is pleasantly cool against Jaemin’s overheated skin.

Then Jeno speaks. “My knees,” he whines. “I literally can’t stand up.”

“I _told_ you we should have done this on the bed,” Renjun says, eyes closed. Somehow he looks even tinier than he usually does, and it’s sending Jaemin’s indulgence instincts into overdrive. “And then we wouldn’t have to move now.”

“Shower first,” Jaemin says. He starts tugging at whichever arms are within reach. “Come on, get up, we can’t fall asleep here.”

“I want a bath,” Jeno mumbles.

“You can have anything you want,” Jaemin says, entirely honestly. Renjun cracks open an eye, meets Jaemin’s gaze, breaks into a smile. Giving Jeno what he wants is something they’re both familiar with, after all.

**Author's Note:**

> feel free to tell me your thoughts!!


End file.
